Meant For You

prologue.

Nola Scott

It's been a while since I've been able to get some alone time on the ice.

I didn't realize how much college would take over my life when I first got here. Originally from Oak Hill, California, I moved to Los Angeles for school. Just like every other college student, I wanted that little taste of freedom that came with moving cities for school. And oh boy, was I getting it.

I never once imagined the person I'd become once I moved away from home. I'm still the same old Nola Scott only with minor altercations. Valedictorian of Highland Preparatory Nola Scott didn't go to at least one party every week, kiss boys, and get into bars and clubs with a beautiful fake ID. I thought I'd have the same study, study, study mindset I had in high school. While I do focus on school more than anything else, my personal life has doubled in action since high school.

But with school and my social life, I've strayed from my first love.

Figure skating.

The sport that makes me feel alive and free as much as moving from Oak Hill did. I still attend every practice with my team but high school Nola would be furious if she knew I was skipping out on ice time because I was recovering from a hangover most Sundays. Hangovers are ninety-nine percent of the reason why I haven't been to Blazing Ice in over a month to get in some practice on my own time.

I've been lucky enough to find a rink with an owner willing to let me use it on Sunday - the only day they're not open - to practice. Sure, I love skating with my team. But skating alone will always top sharing a rink with others. I didn't know how much I had missed it until now.

My competition music spills from the speakers lowly. I'm not skating to it specifically but I like having it play in the background while I practice. I hum the light beat as I prepare for my jump combination. My nerves tick as I go in, landing only the first jump. I groan, slapping the ice as I stand up and try again.

The same thing happens again.
And then again.
And again.

"SHIT!"

I angrily tug my blue scrunchie from my hair, letting my blonde hair loose. My hands shake in frustration as I put my hair back up in a bun. I shouldn't be getting so mad at myself when I did this. I've been putting figure skating last when it should be at least second.

I haven't let go of the dream I've always had. It's still constantly thrashing in the back of my head. Every time I step foot onto the ice, I get an image of myself doing the same thing at the Olympics. Stepping onto ice where the best of the best get to compete. Winning gold for my country. It all sounds too good to be true.

I'm eighteen. Nineteen in a couple of months. I've been watching the Olympics since I was a kid. I've seen the gold, silver, and bronze medals being won by fifteen year olds. Fifteen. It's been years since I've seen someone my age or older up there in the top three. I don't think age has anything to do with it but I do feel like I'm losing time. It scares the hell out of me because I don't know myself without figure skating.

I'm nothing without it.

"Helloooooo? Seriously, the music isn't that loud." An unfamiliar voice catches me off guard, making me stumble a bit. Luckily, I'm able to catch myself on the railing. My eyes widen slightly at the human before me. He's tall, his hair is dark brown and long but not too long. He has a square jaw that looks like it can cut through a piece of red velvet cake. A slight stubble covers said jaw as he stares at me like I'm an alien from Mars. Maybe he's the alien. No human being is that good-looking.